Old Souls
by AerrowLover
Summary: Angels and demons; the greatest of enemies. But perhaps two will end up working together for the benefit of the Winchesters. And remember- everything is not as it may seem. Companion piece to 'Pro Bono'.


**Author Rambles – Well, after finishing 'Pro Bono' I suddenly got hit with an idea, based on this theory of mine. And I decided to write two little companion pieces, this being the first. It's an outtake, really, showing the meeting between Gabriel and Crowley.  
I'm labelling what follows as AU, because I don't think Crowley is who I say he is. But hey, I like playing around with ideas, and you never know anyway. :L  
'Tis set just before Abandon all Hope – S5E10. Enjoy!**

**Warning: Contains swearing, mentions of GabbyXSam****, and general bickering by demons and angels alike.**

**Disclaimer: Malheursement, ****Supernatural n'est pas à moi****!**

* * *

**Old Souls**

"_And there was a war in Heaven: Michael and his angels fought against…the Devil, and Satan…The Devil fought and with his angels. He was cast out into the Earth, and __his angels were cast out with him.  
__~Holy Bible, Revelations 12: 7 -9~_

* * *

The austere-looking old man, extremely well-dressed, told his driver to go away with a wave of the bejeweled hand. He hobbled over to the centre of the Crossroads, a little tin box under one arm. He glanced anxiously over his shoulder. There was no-one there, not that he could see.

At least, not yet.

"This had better be worth it." He huffed, and carefully scraped away dirt and soil to create for himself a small hole, into which he placed this little tin he had guarded during the drive to the Crossroads. His driver knew of his plan for tonight, but what he thought of it, he did not know. Well, he was a mere driver – who cared? Sir Alexander Johnston (insert a row of little letters here) shook his head impatiently as he buried his little tin box, covering it with earth until it vanished. He had heard from his father – who, in turn, had heard from _his_ father – about the mysterious creature, said to be a demon, which lurked at the Crossroads. This creature, it was said, could give you whatever you wished. Johnston's eyes gleamed at the thought; just had they had when he had first heard this tale when he had been but a young boy.

He was an extremely wealthy entrepreneur, owning a vast business empire. Not just here, in the United States, but also back home in England, and even in the far-flung countries of Japan and China. He had power, he had wealth. But he wanted more. And why ever not? He wanted his rival, Amir Kingsley, to lose everything. He wanted his own money to be kept safe during these times of financial peril. He refused to lose what he had hoarded and gained for countless years just because of a few idiotic and greedy bankers. He rolled his eyes in disgust. They should know their place in the World, he thought grimly.

And now, and he stood up and took a few cautious steps away from the centre of these Crossroads, he waited for this so-called demon. He laughed sharply, wrapping his coat closer around him. He was convinced that this was naught but fairytales, however, what if it was true? Had his father and grandfather started and developed their empires because of a deal with a 'demon'? He refused to be the one who lost the Johnson family fortune. No, he would give this thing a try.

He looked around. Still there was nothing.

"I knew this would end up being a waste of time." He muttered furiously under his breath. But still, secretly he hoped that something would arrive. Maybe just a few more minutes…?

"No need to wait, darling." The English-accented voice made him jump, and Sir Alexander Johnston turned slowly around to find himself staring at a dark-haired, dark-eyed, smirking little fellow. He looked him up and down, feeling a tad underwhelmed. Well, this certainly was not a demon. It just looked to be a normal man. Johnston huffed.

"Sorry. Did you expect something with four heads and horns?" The stranger said, still with that damn smirk on his face. He tilted his head to one side, and Johnston suddenly felt a sense of…Vulnerability. He looked into the man's eyes and saw a flicker of something he didn't want to think about.

"Who are you?" He asked outright, folding his arms across his chest.

The stranger stuck his hands into his long black coat. "You should rephrase that question to, 'what am I'." There was a little smatter of laughter. "You came here looking for a demon, and here I am."

"You? A demon?" Johnston snorted. "You are merely a man." He give him a look which clearly said what type of a man Johnston considered him. Someone far beneath him, anyway.

There was another little laugh. "Do not be so easily deceived, Alexander Johnston." Johnston gaped at the mention of his name – he did he know that? - And watched with growing horror as the man before him blinked, and his eyes… They actually changed colour. They were a burning white for a one second, before suddenly reverting back to the glittering dark brown. The man smirked again, but there was something dark in those eyes. "Now, can we get on with business, or do I have to offer more proof of my identity?"

Alexander gaped, his heart thudding. He was not a man to be easily spooked, but this… This wasn't right. Had he gotten himself into something he should not have? With a twinge of frustration at his own weakness, he mentally urged himself to act like man. He stared the – demon? – In the eye. It seemed to look straight into him; like his soul was laid bare for it to look at.

"I'm not too focused on your soul right now, my dear man. At least, not yet." Alexander's eyes widened. Did that thing just read his mind?

"Come come, now. You called me here, so surely you have something you wish to discuss with me?" The demon sounded impatient now, and his eyes held a sort of veiled warning. Alexander Johnston's heart kept thudding and his mind was in a whirl. What was he doing here? Then once again he felt angry at himself for getting so worked up. He was a man, a businessman. He would get this sorted out and then move on. Simple.

"I wish to propose a deal." Johnston inwardly sighed, feeling a tad happier. This was more like it; he could deal and talk business. It was his field; his passion. He refused to dwell deeper on the thing before him, or his comments about his soul. One step at a time, please.

The demon nodded. "Then you have come to the right place." Johnston felt that he was being made fun of, but decided to act oblivious. "What can I do for you, Alexander?" He seemed to know how much Johnston resented being addressed by his Christian name. Once again Johnston decided to act unaffected.

"I want my business rival, Amir Kingsley, to lose everything." His eyes burned as he imagined it – Amir to look at the stock markets, the trading tables, just to see that everything had magically slumped overnight. That would serve him right for bidding higher than he had done, just to annoy him. "Once he is out of the picture, I am safe. Untouchable. Unreachable." Johnston idly kicked a stone away with his foot, as if pretending it was Amir.

The demon nodded once more, taking his hands out of his pockets to clasp them together. "Oh, such treachery. I like it. Well, the business world is a cut-throat world, I understand." He grinned, his eyes drilling into Alexander's. "But that isn't all that you want, is it? You also want security for your little treasure trove."

Johnston licked his lips nervously. The damn thing had poked around in his mind again. Well, at least he didn't have to ask for something else, not now that it was already known. He nodded stiffly. "Yes. I want my money to be kept safe, and not lost to the winds."

There was a silence, in which Alexander pulled his coat tighter around him, as if he could use it as a shield for himself. A part of him was still asking frantically, 'what have you done? You're dealing with a demon here!' He told that part of him in no uncertain terms to be quiet. He refused to be scared by the thought of hellfire and brimstone. He did not believe in God, anyway. Or the Devil. Money, yes. That was believable. But a little man in the sky? He snorted. And as for the so-called 'ruler of Hell'? Yeah, right.

"You know, I have dealt with your father, and your grandfather, little Alex." He looked at the demon in anger – how dare he address him like that! – but the thing seemed only amused. "Yes, I did. Ten years a piece I gave them. Now I find myself dealing with you. Collect all three? I have certainly done that." There was another laugh, and then the demon suddenly looked serious. "You are important to us, Alex. That is why you are treated as a VIP. You didn't get one of my minions to serve you, oh no. You got me."

"Am I meant to feel special, or grateful?" Johnston remarked icily. "Look, can you give me a deal or not?" He was trying not to think about what the demon had just said in regard to his father and grandfather, both of whom were long dead. And why was he deemed important? Maybe he didn't want to know.

The demon's eyes flashed in anger for the briefest of seconds before his face was perfectly expressionless. "I can give you anything you want, Alex." The demon looked at him through half-closed eyes, making Alexander feel embarrassed. Was the thing actually making sexual references, now? It laughed suddenly, and Alex realised that he was being played with. The thing enjoyed making him feel uncomfortable, and uneasy.

"Yes. We have a deal." It said simply, rubbing its hands together. "We have discussed what you wish for. Now, my turn." He looked Johnston up and down, apparently thinking over something. "I give you the unfortunate Mister Kingsley's bankruptcy, and a guarantee that your money will never be lost. But…" He looked at him with his head tilted. "I take it you understand what I require?"

"My… Soul?" Alexander muttered, feeling decidedly uneasy now. But obviously it was too late to back out, and besides – he had never seen or used his soul. What did it matter? For what he could get with it… It was a soul well spent, he thought.

"Indeed. One little soul for all that. You are getting quite nice deal, my dear little Alex." The demon said lazily, and took a few steps towards him. "Now, I'll give you ten years to enjoy what you will wake up to tomorrow, and then I will come to claim what is mine. Oh, come on," He exclaimed, seeing the look of shock swiftly pass over the other man's face, "Ten years is a long time for a man of your age. I really am being most generous here." He paused, shaking his head. "Of course, if you do not wish to take me up on my offer…"

Alexander found himself shaking his head. The demon was right, ten years did seem like a long time, and considering that his doctor had reported to him that his heart was starting to go, maybe it was a good deal to take. And look what he would achieve from it! His age-old rival, gone. And everything he loved in the world taken care of. It was something to be seized on.

"No. I mean, yes. Yes, it is a deal." He found himself tripping over his words. The demon looked delighted.

"What a clever little boy. Now, to seal the deal…" Johnston held out his hand, but the thing laughed at him, his unusually dark eyes glittering. "That may be good enough for your business partners, but where I am from, it's deemed unnecessary. A kiss with do."

Johnston found himself gaping again. "A …What?" He sputtered in horror.

The demon sighed dramatically. "Your father did it. And your grandfather. Do you want to lose this dazzling opportunity because of a touch of homophobia?" He raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face.

"No…Well I… No." He found himself stammering and stuttering like a schoolboy. The thing was right – he could not let this pass him by. And if his forefathers had done it, too… He found himself nodding unhappily. He closed his eyes.

Before Alexander knew what was going on, he had the demon's lips on his, and then suddenly they were gone again. Opening his eyes, he found himself looking at the demon, who was still smirking.

"Excellent! All done. Except, of course, for the paperwork." He rolled his eyes.

"You have…Paperwork in… Hell?" Johnston found himself asking, thinking that this really was ridiculous.

The demon grinned. "Of course we do. How do you think you humans came to suffer from it?" He shoved his hands back into his pockets with a nod. "Oh yes. Paperwork in Hell really is… Well, like hell." The demon laughed at his own joke, and before Alexander could blink, he was gone.

Looking around quickly, Johnston found that he really was alone; that demon really had just vanished before his eyes. Deciding that he no longer wanted to be here anymore, he started walking as fast as his legs could carry him down one of the four roads. His driver should be down there, waiting for him to call, but he did not want to have to wait for him. Not here.

And so Sir Alexander Johnston found himself walking away from the Crossroads, wondering what on Earth he had just witnessed, and what he had just done.

* * *

There was one man who Hell was going to enjoy playing with in ten years time nicely dealt with. Like he had told the man, he normally sent one of his gormless and rather brainless minions out to do the dealing, but Alexander Johnston was important to Hell. Crowley smoothed down his suit, standing on a little hill just north of his latest dealing. It was nice to just… Observe.

He wasn't going to go back Down Under right away. He wanted to spend a little play time up here for a while longer. And it wasn't as if Lilith would be waiting for him when he got back, ready to berate him. Crowley smiled a long slow smile of satisfaction. He really should have sent the youngest Winchester a 'thank you' Hallmark card for the massive favour. Lilith had considered herself above all the rest, just because she was Lucifer's first. Crowley snorted. The woman was misguided. She actually believed Lucifer cared for her, placed her above everything. She had been wrong. In fact, all of his kind was wrong.

Why could they not see with way the wind was blowing? Lucifer had been the Morning Star, one of God's beloved angels. He had created demons out of spite, but he did not love his creation. Oh no. He thought them filthy creatures, nearly as bad as the humans he had fought with Heaven about. Sometimes Crowley believed he was the only one with any sense in his head. The others were looking forward to roaming free on Earth. Could they not see that once Lucifer destroyed humans, he would burn the earth and then murder his loving servants? Crowley shook his head, sighing. Oh yes. Dark times were coming, whether you were a human or a demon. And he was meant to be in charge now, preparing for an all-out war with humanity, when he knew that soon he would be killed for simply not being an angel? The self-styled King of the Crossroads snorted again, and was about to make his way to somewhere – maybe Paris, possibly Berlin – when all of a sudden he felt a tug in his head.

He straightened, ready to spring. Something – something powerful - was trying to invade his mind. He slammed down his mental shields. Crowley thought furiously over what it might be. Not another demon, he would have recognized the being trying to intrude. Not a psychic, he knew that. He would have felt the summoning of a human psychic, and that had not happened.

"Oh no you don't." He muttered harshly, feeling that something tug again. Fine, it wanted to play. Two can do that.

_Get out before you do something you will regret. _He thought, and the tug seemed to stop, before coming back relentlessly. Crowley was about to respond in kind before he stopped. He faintly recognized what was attacking him. It had been a long time – a very,_ very_ long time – since it had last happened, but he finally remembered what it was.

_Stay back, angel. _He snarled. Damn things are now attacking demons with their minds now, is that it? He flinched as he felt an almightily shove against his mind. The thing was trying to break down his defenses. And it _hurt_.

He was about to retaliate when it decided to speak.

_Damn it, you. I'm only trying to get you to reply. _The voice sounded sulky, and Crowley could almost picture the angel pouting. _I need you to meet me somewhere. _It suddenly sounded desperate.

Crowley grinded his teeth in frustration. Why the hell did an angel want to talk to him? It was probably a trap. Like hell he was meeting up with it.

_I'm not in the mood to accept any tea party invitations. _He growled. _Especially not with any winged holier than thou angels. Get out of my head._

Crowley could feel his attacker's surprise. It seemed… Disappointed?

_I can't believe you don't recognise me! Granted, things have changed, but –_

_I don't have any angel friends. _Crowley interrupted dryly. _So it seems you have a wrong number._

_Crowley. _The thing tugged at his mind again, causing a wince of pain to hiss through his teeth. Now it just seemed angry at him. _Just think, would you? Try to recognise me! Feel the link – remember? Think about it!_

And there it was. Crowley suddenly felt something he had not in years. It seemed like such a distant memory, seen through different eyes and felt with a different mind but there it was – he could dimly remember feeling a similar feeling with another's mind. But where? And with whom? He could hear a harsh noise when he strained to hear and to feel more, and he winced at the pain it caused. Definitely heavenly mumbo-jumbo there. Yet how come it could faintly remember it?

_Hell doesn't just steal your memories, it apparently steals your intelligence as well. _The other mental figure snorted. It did seem familiar but from where? He couldn't just – damn it. Crowley sighed, rubbing his temples. No wonder they were throbbing when he thought about what was talking in his head right now.

Something clicked, and then he was able to identify this attacker.

_What the hell are you doing in my head, Gabriel? _He hissed, furious that an Archangel had just strolled into his mind. He was so dead. _How did you find me? And why are you even talking to me? Get out, now, before I track you down and burn off your pretty wings._

_Look, I don't have time for all of this. _There was an edge of anger now to the normally sarcastic voice. _And neither do you –_

_I know that! _Crowley snarled, feeling himself shake with fury. _Get the Hell away from me. Or I will stab you with that little butter knife of a sword you have on you, Archangel! _He was beyond anger now. Why would an angel – and Gabriel, at that – contact him in such a way? He swore, lashing out at another rock near him. Angels and demons did not mix, not at all. They were sworn enemies, damnit!

He was about to take off when he felt the weirdest sensation overtake him. It felt as if every nerve of his human body was tingling; on fire almost. And his head! He clutched at it, swearing violently as pain coursed through it.

_Sorry._ The voice in his head said, but it sounded anything but apologetic. _Just a little summoning charm. We're gonna have a little date, big boy. See you soon!_ There was a cackle of laughter, and then the mental link was broken. Crowley only had time to mutter something along the lines of what he would do to the Archangel once he saw him before he found the scenery surrounding him begin to blur and change. The tingling sensation went crazy.

He had always hated being summoned. It was as if he had to answer to something; like he was only a mere pawn in a far bigger game. That was why Crowley enjoyed suddenly appearing in one place before vanishing to another in a heartbeat – because he could, and it was of his own doing.

He had only ever been summoned twice. The first time had been to the Morning Star himself, and that had been a long, long time ago. The second time – and this was embarrassing – had been when a coven of witches had managed to track down an old and powerful spell which trapped the nearest Crossroads demon… Which unfortunately had been him. Of all the times, too. He rarely left his 'office' in Hell for work, only for those who were extremely important to Hell and to his Master. But no, this time was the time the witches had to cast that spell, and it was him who was caught. And now look at him. Getting pulled along for a ride for the third time. Crowley swore that there would never be a fourth.

Before he could reminisce or threaten anymore however, he felt the tingling in his nerves vanish, and found himself standing in a wide clearing of some forest. He could feel the age and history of the trees, and wondered briefly what had happened here for magic to still be felt. The Crossroads demon gently placed a hand on the withered trunk of the closest tree.

"An angel Fell here. That's their Grace you're picking the vibes up on." Crowley looked up sharply to see a smirking man with bright hazel eyes staring at him. He looked further, deeper, and saw the soul of what could only be an angel. He had to pull out quickly, lest he ended up being frazzled due to its Grace.

The angel laughed, and took a few steps towards him. "Always on guard, eh, Crowley?" His eyes flashed, and the outline of an enormous pair of wings unfolded behind his back, spreading out into the night sky. Crowley felt his eyes flicker and change colour, and his demonic instinct was screaming at him, telling him to attack, or run. There was a huge and empty silence in which Crowley could almost hear the unspoken threat. An angel and a demon, meeting. It was something that just did not happen for this exact reason – they would fight. Neither could let the other away. It was against the rules, of both Heaven and Hell, although recently the angels had seemed to remove their presence and let demons run riot around the Earth. But now Crowley could feel the darkness within him urging him to fight this creature of the light, and he was pretty sure, judging by the look on the angel's face and his stance, that he was experiencing the same feeling.

They watched each other, not moving or making a sound. Eventually it was the angel – Gabriel, Crowley reminded himself irritably -who spoke, a smirk playing over his features.

"Look, we'll be at this all night." He rolled his eyes. "I'm not here to fight." As he spoke, Crowley could see those wings curl and fold behind the Archangel's back. Changing his stance from one of preparing to attack to one of ready to talk. He snorted. Like this was going to happen.

"I do not know what you believe you are playing at, you winged git." He spat out, clenching his fists at his sides, "But-"

"Yadda yadda yadda. You demons are all the same." Gabriel drolled. He appeared to be bored, hands tucked into his jeans, but his eyes gave all away. He looked utterly exhausted and worn out, and Crowley wondered what could possibly cause an angel to look like that. "Threaten me all you want, Mister Salesman. But the truth is I can fry you to a crisp in one second, so why don't we have a little chit-chat instead?"

Crowley found himself grinding his teeth in frustration. This was why he hated angels, and their holier than thou attitudes. They believed themselves to be all-powerful creatures of God, who could be harmed by anyone or anything, least of all demons. But Crowley, however, was no ordinarily weak little demon, and he knew he could easily take on an angel. Archangels, however… Hence why he was frustrated. He hated being on an unlevel playing field; not being the one in control. His being summoned here proved who called the shots, and he didn't like it. At all.

"What makes you think, even for a second, that I will actually participate in this foolish discussion?" He asked, glaring at Gabriel. "In case you haven't noticed, in my line of work this is called 'treason'. And I do value my neck, angel-boy." He felt a flicker of satisfaction at the flash of anger in Gabriel's eyes at his comment. Well, did Gabriel think he could dish out insults and not receive any in return?

"Crowley. I don't have time for this crap. But, if it makes you feel any better, I've placed a cloak over us. We get to talk, and no-one can hear us. No-one, "He emphasised, "and that means both upstairs and down. If it's your safety you're worried about, chillax. This is all tippy toppy secret." He spun around on his feet, arms held out. "So, we can spill." He smirked again, and Crowley found himself rolling his eyes, feeling them flicker back to their normal colour.

"Why should I trust you, angel? This could be a trap." He retorted, gesturing to the trees around him. "How do I know your kind isn't hiding here?"

"You'd make a terrible Avon salesgal if you think like that. In case no-one has told you, I'm not on anyone's pathetic little side in this war." Seeing Crowley raise an eyebrow, Gabriel continued, "It's true! I don't give a rat's ass about either Mikey or Lucy. I'm only here for me." He nodded his head. Crowley slowly nodded his own. Self-service. He could understand that. "And perhaps someone else…" Gabriel's voice trailed off, and Crowley instantly perked up. So, Gabriel wasn't here wholly for himself. Interesting. Maybe he should stick around for a few moments, just to find out what exactly was going on. He looked Gabriel up and down, watching as the Archangel actually dropped his gaze and focused on the tree behind the Crossroad demon's head. Just who was this 'somebody'? And what was their connection to the Archangel? This was indeed, very interesting.

He slowly unclenched his fists and placed his hands in his coat pockets, thinking furiously for a minute before making up his mind. "Fine. Let's say I'm interested to hear what you have to say." He couldn't help it, really. He was a demon, for crying out loud. He was as curious as creatures came, and he could sense a weakness around the Archangel before him. Crowley felt a slow smile spread across his face. He was a manipulative bastard, he knew that about himself. Maybe he could use something from this for future reference. Curious, Crowley decided to probe around and see what else he could pick up on, suddenly sensing an overwhelming scent of love and affection. He recoiled instantly. That wasn't something he liked feeling, a pure bond of love. A shudder ran through him.

Gabriel looked at him with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Goodie! I love it when a plan comes to a head." He giggled at something, before continuing, seemingly picking his words with care. "I'm guessing you're wondering why I picked you to have a chat with. I mean, you're a demon, right? So… Why are you the chosen one?"

"The thought did cross my mind once or twice, yes." Crowley said dryly. Gabriel laughed delightedly, clapping his hands. Oddly enough, Crowley had a feeling that he had been used to this sort of behaviour. He shrugged it off.

"You do remember the old days, don't you, Crowley?" Gabriel asked, and the Crossroads demon was amazed to hear that he actually sounded hesitant. Once again, Crowley had this nagging thought in his mind, something he didn't want to try and remember. But yet he found himself not concentrating on the Archangel anymore. He felt as if he were somewhere else. Somewhere bright, and beautiful. Somewhere from a very old and very distant memory. Somewhere where he had been totally different from what he was now. He shook his head in vain to dispel the image.

He didn't want to go back down that path.

He looked up at the Archangel who was carefully studying him, and glared.

"What do you want, Gabriel?" Crowley spat, trying to throw as much venom into the word as possible. But try as he might he just felt an overwhelming tiredness sluggish crawl through him, and his voice sounded weary. Gabriel seemed to perk up, ignoring the sharpness in the demon's voice.

"I know you remember." Gabriel insisted, his hazel eyes drilling into his own dark brown ones. "I know you do, Mister Salesman. You were different once. I need you to remember. Then you'll know why I called on you!"

"I do not _want _to remember." The words had left his mouth before he realised, and Crowley sighed. He looked at Gabriel, "Don't you see? I do not want to remember… What happened. I'd rather live in the here and now, thank you very much." His eyes glittered dangerously as Gabriel went to open his mouth. "I mean it, Angel-boy. Now go and fly away to the Great Dove Cote in the sky, why don't you. And leave me alone."

Gabriel's wings uncurled in apparent anger, stretching out into the dark sky. Gabriel looked furious, his eyes narrowing. Part of him was asking why he had even bothered to go through with all of this, while the other part was pleading with him to keep his cool. He needed Crowley right now, preferably alive.

"Just because I'm not playing Bible Wars doesn't mean you can order me around, _demon_." He snarled, "I'll kill you where you stand, you know."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "No, you won't." he said, sounding bored. "You need me for something, otherwise I wouldn't be here. You took a lot of trouble in getting me here and making sure our conversation is not overheard, so I'm guessing that I can do something that no-one else can. Which would be…" He let his gaze fall on the Archangel, "Making a deal."

Gabriel looked at him for a few seconds before laughing. God, he missed this type of fighting. He hadn't had a worthy opponent in _ages_, though Dean Winchester came close, but not close enough. This suddenly seemed fun, even though his heart was breaking with the reason why he was actually here. He had to make sure that… That Sam would be cared for when he wasn't around. And Gabriel had a vague suspicion that that day would come sooner rather than later. By not committing himself to a cause for either side, he was stuck in the middle; meaning that neither of his two big brothers would be too pleased with him. He snorted, shaking his head slightly. Like he gave a damn about what Mikey or Lucy thought of him. Okay, maybe he did, and maybe he did love them still – they were his brothers, after all – but both had pointy sticks shoved so far up their asses, they were coming out of their throats. Deep down, Gabriel cared about humanity, and he couldn't let the Earth be destroyed just because Michael and Lucifer were spoiling for a fight that was long-overdue. No, he had made up his mind. He would stick with the desperate little Team Free Will, and he would stay by Sam's side, for as long as he could.

He sighed, feeling his wings curl around him. When he had told Sam that he couldn't lose him, he had been telling the truth. The problem was, what would Sam do when he lost Gabriel? Gabriel had watched as the youngest Winchester became depressed, and more withdrawn as the days went by. Everything was becoming too much, and he clung to Gabriel like he was his rock. He needed taking care of, Gabriel thought, and Dean was too far gone himself to even be considered. His little brother Castiel was no longer an Angel, and besides, he was rather occupied taking care of the oldest Winchester. So, in a desperate act, the runaway Archangel had thought of an unlikely plan, and was now turning to the only person he had left. Talk about Last Chance Saloon, he thought with a wry smile.

"Okay, touché, Mister Salesman." Gabriel said, holding his hands up to Crowley, who merely looked at him. Gabriel was actually a tad surprised that the Crossroads demon was still here; that he hadn't taken off yet. He bit his lip, wondering how to continue. He didn't want to jump right in with his request, but he knew that beating around the bush wouldn't help him. Crowley preferred straight answers, which was extremely hypocritical, seeing as the bastard never dished them out himself. Then, what did you expect with a demon? "Look, I need your help." He began, staring at the demon. "I wouldn't have come here if I could've done this myself, but…" He sighed, considering. "But let's just say I can't, with good reason."

Crowley felt his curiosity being aroused, and studied the Archangel intently. As strange as it was, Gabriel really did appear to be sincere; to be desperate. Something must certainly be bad if he had sought out a demon for help. And for something that he could not do himself? Archangels were incredibly powerful. Why was Gabriel at such a loss, then? He kept quiet, thinking things over. Gabriel took this as a cue to continue.

"I'm all on my lonesome here-"

"That's what you get for running away from your family." Crowley remarked, grinning. "I heard about that." Gabriel decided to ignore that one.

"Right, so you know I can't go to my kind and ask for help." Gabriel said, feeling a twinge of anger when he thought about how blind his kind really was. Following Michael's orders without a flicker of their own thought or opinions. Really, he was quite thankful he had got out when he did. "I need you to…" He trailed off, hesitant about just how much he should reveal right now. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Will you please get to the point, for the sake of my sanity?" He asked impatiently. "It's bad enough that you dragged me here, but now I have to listen to your whining, it really is getting too much-"

"I need you to watch over the Winchesters." Gabriel said, and Crowley stopped mid-rant, looking momentarily shocked. The look of surprise was swiftly covered by a rather calculating one.

"The Winchesters? As in, Sam and Dean?" Crowley's dark eyes glittered. "The vessels? Is that what this is about? You want to keep the vessels protected until they're going to be played with?" He smirked. "So much for the whole, 'I'm not part of the Bible War' there, Gabriel."

Gabriel sighed, running his temples with his hands. This was going to be a long night. One time, that might have been exactly what he had been planning. Hell, he had actually locked the Winchesters away in TV Land, with a threat that they would stay there forever until they learnt some sense, and said yes to Lucifer and Michael. That was when he was unmasked as Gabriel, no longer able to pretend that he was the Trickster. Then, when he had been trapped in a fiery ring of holy oil, Dean Winchester had remarked that he was simply 'too scared to stand up to his family', and left, but not after hitting the fire alarm, allowing the fire to be put out. Gabriel had thought over that comment for a long, long time, before realizing that Dean was right – not that he had actually said that to his face, or anything – and had tracked the brothers down. He had helped out with a few things, had left, but had been forced to backtrack once he saw what a state the youngest Winchester was in. He had ended up becoming his Guardian Angel, if you could call it that, and eventually had developed feelings for him. Feelings that were, amazingly, mutual. Now he couldn't bear to leave Sammy, and the thought of offering him up to Lucy was something that made him shudder.

"Do you ever see things without painting them in a layer of lies, deception, and treachery, Crowley?" He asked, rubbing his head again. "Is that something that's compulsory for all demons? Really, I wanna know."

Crowley threw him a glare. "What else could it possibly be? Why else would you care so much about the Winchesters?" He spat out the name. Although he had never actually dealt with the boys personally, he had heard many a tale of them. They hated demons in particular, and Crowley had lost of count of how many of his little Crossroads minions he had lost to Sam Winchester. Granted, it had been Sam who had ganked Lilith, but the point still stands, he thought. The brothers hadn't been a huge fan of angels either, from what he had heard, so why would Gabriel care so much for them, enough to seek out a demon to make a deal to protect them? Crowley suddenly remembered the immense feeling of love and devotion he had picked up on when he had first seen Gabriel, and an idea struck him. He honestly didn't know whether to laugh or to recoil in disgust.

"You love one of them." He said flatly, watching for Gabriel's reaction. "Don't you?" The Crossroads demon saw a flicker in Gabriel's eyes, and smiled. He had him cornered now. He thought again about that feeling, and then he knew exactly who had garnered the attention of the Archangel. "Sam Winchester? You are in love… With Sam Winchester!" Crowley shouted in disbelief. A laugh escaped him. "Gabriel, darling. You have really lost it this time, haven't you?"

Gabriel's eyes flashed in anger, and Crowley could feel a hold tightening around his throat. He giggled none the less. Oh, this was something you could not make up. His eyes glittered with mockery.

"I'm not gonna even try and get you to understand any of this, _demon_." Gabriel's voice was no longer bubbly or full of laughter. It had taken on a cold and menacing edge to it. "After all, you know nothing of love." Gabriel laughed, but it sounded bitter. "You may have once, but that's all gone now."

"Love is a weakness, you idiotic Messenger." Crowley gasped through the hold in his throat. It was getting tighter and more painful as he found himself struggling. "And it's made you vulnerable. Can't you see? Sam can be used to get to you, and vice versa!" Crowley didn't know why he seemed to care so much about this.

"I'll never make Sam have to suffer that." Gabriel said, sounding furious. "I want him safe, if it's the last thing I do." The words were so ironic that he found himself laughing suddenly. Crowley looked at him as if he was mad, and he was probably right, Gabriel thought. It was going to be the last thing he ever did, and it was because he loved Sam that he would do it. Gabriel released Crowley, who fell on his knees in a slump, coughing painfully.

"I need your help, Crowley." Gabriel said in frustration. He was tempted to do many a thing to get the demon to agree – there was no time for all this – but he knew from experience that people tended to agree more readily if they weren't tortured. Which was a pity, really. "I need to you keep Sam safe for me. Even keep Dean safe for me, too. He's an annoying ass, but he is Sam's brother. I can't have Sam left totally alone in the big, wide world." There was a smirk on the Archangel's face, his hazel eyes burning brightly. "I'm gonna to die, I know it. I can't leave Sam alone! He's got no sense of self-preservation!"

Crowley longed to punch some sense into the stupid, love struck angel, but instead he asked, "What, in the name in all Creation, makes you think that I am going to help the Winchesters to let you get sweet dreams at night?" He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "In case you have not noticed, angel-cakes, they hate demons. Also, I don't like hunters. Oh, and Lucifer will have my head on a spike if I did anything like that!" He snarled furiously, "So you can shove all this up your feathery arse!" He wasn't at all surprised when he found himself being thrown across the clearing, right into a tree. Ouch. He looked up to find that Gabriel was already beside him, looking furious. But also, looking oddly triumphant.

"Next time I have business here, I am heading back to Hell straight away afterwards." Crowley muttered, picking himself up and smoothing down his rumpled suit and coat. He glared at Gabriel. "That way I won't be thrown around – literally – by smug Angelic bastards!" He stuck his hands in his coat pockets, feeling murderous, his mood not improving as Gabriel merely laughed aloud.

"Crowley, we should've met up more often!" Gabriel said with a smirk, "I've had more fun here than in ages!" He laughed again as the demon threw him a particularly venomous glare. "Now, don't be like that, pet. You know you love me really."

"What I would love is to see you trapped in some burning holy oil." Crowley muttered darkly, causing Gabriel to pout. "I'm being serious, you moron. And if you think you can some how get me to agree to your idiotic scheme, you are thicker than what I deemed possible."

"What if I said I could guilt-trip you into helping me?" Gabriel's voice was a sing-song. Crowley rolled his again yet again in frustration, wishing that he really could strangle the annoying Archangel.

"Guilt-trip a demon? Emotional blackmail doesn't work on us, seeing as we have no soul. Moron." Crowley said, sounding bored. Gabriel didn't seem to be disheartened, in fact, he merely grinned all the more.

"You mentioned that I came here to make a deal. Well… That's not really true." Seeing that Crowley was about to open his mouth, Gabriel plunged ahead, "A part of the deal has already been carried out. My part. So, it's all up to you now to carry out your part. What?" Gabriel said, seeing the look of anger on Crowley's face, "Did you honestly think I would let myself become indebted to a demon? No, I kinda thought this through."

"For once." The Crossroads demon muttered dryly. He rubbed his temples with his hands. Damn, he was getting a pounding headache, and he had a feeling that the Archangel was only getting started with whatever it was he was doing. Unfortunately. "Do I even want to hear the rest of this, Angel-cakes?" He sighed wearily.

"I saved your life, once, Crowley." Gabriel's voice was suddenly soft, and sounded… Sad. "I saved your life, and I never thought of asking anything in payment, because you were my little brother then." A despondent sigh. "Now, you're a black-hearted demon, and demanding payment is the only friggin' thing you understand."

Crowley dropped his gaze, concentrating instead on staring at the undergrowth near his feet, the fight all but beaten out of him as this unforeseen turn of events. He did not want to hear this, not now. He kept quiet, even as Gabriel continued in the same vein.

"Do you not remember? After Mikey had locked Lucy away, he then rounded up all the little rebels who had fought with Lucifer. He was furious with you all." Gabriel sounded lost in memories, shaking his head. "He wanted to wipe you all out for being disobedient, but Dad said no. Eventually it was decided that only the ringleaders of the rebellion would be killed, the rest banished to Earth, to live out their lives as humans. And you…" Crowley made himself look up into the hazel eyes of the Archangel at the mention of himself, "You just happened to be one of the former."

"Lucifer had it right, you know." Crowley found the words tumbling out of his mouth. "Emphasis on the past tense there, however."

"I pleaded with Michael to spare you, saying that you were young and easily lead." Gabriel continued as if Crowley had not spoken. He wasn't looking at the Crossroads demon anymore, but straight ahead. Almost as if he was re-living that moment, from so long ago. "You, along with little Castiel and Anael, you were like my groupies or something." Gabriel snorted in amusement, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of tenderness. "I felt… Responsible."

"So you got me condemned to a life of humanity." Crowley said dryly. "Well, thanks for that; it was a blast."

"Would you rather've been killed?" Gabriel seemed too exhausted to get mad now.

"Death would have been preferable to what I had to endure." Crowley found himself trembling with barely-suppressed rage. "Do you know what it feels like, when you Fall?" He glared at the Archangel, remembering the occasion and the pain and fear he had felt then. "Your Grace is ripped from you, and suddenly you're cut off from Heaven, from your family. You are totally alone." He clenched his fists at his sides. "Your wings are burnt off in one go – a single stroke that bars you from enjoying the skies ever again. All you can feel in pain. Pain and grief. And fear. Suddenly you are human, virtually blind, deaf and weak compared to what you once were." Crowley's dark eyes clouded over at the thought. "But of course you would not understand that, Messenger. You were able to do a runner and keep everything that makes you an Archangel." Crowley spat, determined to put on his demonic front once more.

Gabriel sighed, and his wings visibly drooped. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and soft. "Raziel-"

"Do not call me by that name." Crowley interrupted, in a voice that was dark. A bitter laugh escaped from his mouth. "As far as I am concerned, that name belongs to someone that no longer exists."

"I can see now how good ol' Lucylu managed to corrupt you into joining him once more." Gabriel's normally sarcastic voice was steely. "All that rage and bitterness made you perfect for his plans."

"Are we going to reminisce over past times some more, Gabriel? Because I do have a job to do right now."

"You owe me, Crowley." Gabriel straightened up, arms folded in a gesture of annoyance. He wasn't going to let his one last hope slip through his fingers, not now. "And I know how demons, especially you, like to work. You hate being in debt. So, why not help me out here?" The smirk was back in place on the Archangel's face. Crowley briefly wondered if the Archangel ever lasted a day without it in residence.

The Crossroads demon found himself rubbing his head again. Gabriel was right – he disliked being in debt to anyone, but what he was asking for… It was simply too much. He honestly couldn't believe he was actually debating over this. Why should he help out an Archangel? But then again… That annoying, whiny, and bloody stubborn Archangel had saved him from being smited, all those years ago.

And secretly, for some time now, he had been thinking of…Absconding in his duties to Lucifer. He knew all too well what would happen when the war was won – humanity would be wiped out, but demon kind would swiftly follow. Why should he not leave now, when he had the chance? This helping the Winchesters thing could, in turn, help him. He could use them to protect him, perhaps.

He glanced at Gabriel, not at surprised to see the Archangel smirking at him. He had probably raced through his thoughts, Crowley realised with a twinge of frustration.

"If I do help you, and guard your precious Winchesters…" The Crossroads demon began, choosing his words with care, "You do realise that it will be my head on the line? Lucifer will be after me." And I'll be the most buggered son in all of Creation, Crowley mentally added.

Gabriel shrugged, causing his wings to rustle. "I know. But we both know that he will end up killing you anyway, if he wins. It's a lose/lose, buddy. But you get to choose the right path here for once. You can help lock Lucy back up in the Box. Maybe you'll even live through it all, who knows. It's your choice."

"Gabriel, are you trying to give me a morale-boosting speech? If so, I've heard better." Crowley chuckled, shaking his head. The King of the Crossroads considered his options, wondering was he really right in the head if he was doing this. He was really so dead after tonight. He sighed again, this time rather dramatically. "You always were going to be the death of me, Angel-cakes."

The Archangel laughed, and clapped his hands together. "Congratulations, Mister Salesman!" He sobered for a second. "Why?" Crowley knew what he was being asked; he was busy asking himself the same question – why was he agreeing to help the Winchesters?

He looked around the forest, feeling those 'angel vibes', as Gabriel had christened them. He closed his eyes, and thought about what he had lost over the years. His Grace, then his humanity. Now he was losing his pride. But after tonight he would lose all that he had built up for himself in Hell. Crowley turned around to face Gabriel.

"Who was the angel that Fell here?" He asked, but deep down he already knew the answer to his question.

There was a small silence. The trees gently swayed as the wind blew through them. Time seemed to stand still.

Gabriel looked at him, and Crowley couldn't decipher the emotion in those hazel eyes. "That would be you."

Crowley couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for the Archangel – he really had planned this so carefully, and so well. "You want to know why I am doing this, Gabriel?" He sighed. "Truth is, I honestly don't understand myself." He found himself grinning as his eyes glittered darkly. "But I like to believe it is for myself."

"Wouldn't expect anything less from a demon." Gabriel laughed delightedly, back to his old form. He tilted his head to one side, thinking. "What are you going to do first, then?" He asked Crowley with real interest.

The Crossroads demon shrugged lightly. "I suppose I will head over to my house." He said vaguely. His mind was elsewhere – a jumble of shining white images had formed in his head, and he was trying to make sense of them. He turned away from the Archangel, who was busy pulling out a candy bar from his pockets.

"You should know that the Winchesters know about you having the Colt. Seems they're planning a little raid to your mansion so they can get it back." Gabriel paused. "They're heading over there tonight, I believe."

Crowley turned around lazily to face the Archangel, a smirk of his own in place. "Then I better go over there and get ready." In a flicker of a second, he was gone, leaving Gabriel alone in the forest.

"Raziel." He muttered under his breath, grinning. "You were always the mysterious one." With a shake of the head, and the flutter of feathers, he too was gone.

* * *

**...Yes. I told you I was wierd. This is what my mind came up with! :L **

**I chose the name 'Raziel' for Angel!Crowley because 'Raziel' is apparently the, 'Angel of Mysteries.' And Crowley right now in the show is pretty mysterious, you have to admit. I can't wait to see what he gets up to in season six! **

***Cough* Yes, where was I? Oh yeah - that was companion piece number one for 'Pro Bono'. I'll probably do number two sometime this week. That is, if I don't end up consumed with writing for Gears of War... Anyway, I hope you liked! Any reviews will be greatly loved, as always. Many thanks! xx**


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